


Release

by MirrorandImage



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2020-05-18 23:44:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19345111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirrorandImage/pseuds/MirrorandImage
Summary: Ezra and Ahsoka help Hera treat Kanan after the season 1 finale. While doing so Ezra learns a little bit about releasing emotions.





	Release

"One chapter has closed for you, Ezra Bridger. This is a new day. A new beginning."

Ezra couldn't quite contain the puff of pride that filled his chest and the smirk that quirked on his lips. Their accomplishments were many: He had Kanan back, they had provided proof that the Empire wasn't unbeatable, and now there was a _fleet_. A bunch of cells that came together to start to fight back. All because of what they had done – what _he_ had done, with his broadcast.

"Now," Ahsoka continued, "is a time for rest. You have all been through much these past few days. It is time to recuperate."

Ahsoka – what kind of race was she? He'd never seen one on Lothal – it was like a switch flipped in his brain and he realized he was exhausted. From the moment they had lost Kanan all the way until the moment when they finally had him _back_ , he had been on go. Several days with little sleep, risky gambles, reckless plans and frantic fighting. Adrenaline was fading and the lack of sleep was catching up. Everyone was nodding in agreement to Ahsoka's words, Sabine was already heading back to her room, a tired smile still spread across her face and Zeb let out a massive yawn as he headed to his bunk. Chopper was grumbling something, as he headed to his power station. Ezra started to follow Zeb when he felt a steady hand that he had been missing fall on his shoulder.

"You're coming with me, kid," Kanan said softly. "We need to get a bacta-patch on that."

Ezra blinked, then reached up to the cauterized burns on his face, having forgotten the dull ache. Even after everything that had happened the Jedi was still looking out for him. "Okay," he shrugged.

Kanan kept his hand on Ezra's shoulder as he guided them to the Jedi's room. A glance back and Ezra saw Kanan was giving Hera a look that she seemed to understand instantly, and followed after them, Ahsoka coming up from behind. They all entered Kanan's room, and Ezra was surprised to see a medkit already out and incredibly well stocked. He shouldn't have been surprised, they were all expecting the worst once the Jedi had been in Tarkin's and the Inquisitor's hands, but Ezra still did a double take at seeing the medkit.

Already flipping through the kit, Kanan pulled out several items that were decidedly _not_ bacta-patches, before pulling one out and ripping it open.

He turned, and gestured for Ezra to come into the light. His master lightly touched the tip of his chin, guiding Ezra's head in the light to see better and pushing aside some of his long dark hair. The teen saw Kanan's eyes were dark, the heavily bruised look of lack of sleep, and there were lines there that he'd never seen before. He realized belatedly that Kanan's hand was shaking slightly, and his gaze was cloudy for a moment before snapping to focus. "No signs of infection yet," he said softly. "That's good." And with gentleness that Ezra was still surprised at after all these months, Kanan put the bacta-patch on his cheek. "Stick around, Ezra," he said, standing up. "We need to talk Jedi things."

Ezra blinked, surprised, and glanced to Hera. "Then why is Hera still here?"

"Because your master is close to passing out," Ahsoka replied, her blue eyes studying Kanan's form.

"The Force can only support me so much," Kanan nodded. "My adrenaline is fading and I'm having a harder time focusing." His eyes drifted almost as soon as he finished talking, focus blurring. He swayed on his feet, leaning precariously to the side before Hera's hand jerked out, catching a shoulder. The touch brought him back almost instantly, and he made a noise of frustration. Sheer determination, not the Force, was keeping him upright. He reached up to unbuckle his shoulder guard, his eyes tight. Hera was already helping him, stepping behind to work the other buckle, hand still on his shoulder, silent support.

"I don't understand," Ezra said.

"Don't look at me with your eyes, Ezra," Kanan said softly as his armor came off. "Look through the Force."

"But you've been so strong," Ezra replied, "stronger than I've ever seen you. You _beat_ that Inquisitor, the Force can't do that!"

Then Hera helped Kanan's sweater off and Ezra's jaw dropped.

"Oh, love," Hera said softly. "What did they do to you?"

Bruising was all along his torso and down his arms, some black, some blue and some green and yellow with age, highlighting older scars that Ezra had seen before and making them look even worse. Some patches of skin were red-raw, circular and the obvious sign of... something horrible. That was when Ezra realized that no being had any right to be standing, let alone fighting Grand Inquisitors and running through stardestroyers and patching up errant Padawans. Once Ezra realized what he was seeing he could recognize the difference in the Force, too.

Kanan sat heavily on his bunk, almost collapsed, with a grunt and it seemed all the energy he had running around the stardestroyer and piloting the TIE fighter was just... leaking out of him. His presence in the Force was fading, that overwhelming sense of _strength_ Ezra had felt on the catwalk vaporizing like smoke, before the Force flared brightly, Kanan's tight and rigid control resurfacing.

Ahsoka was sitting quietly on Kanan's meditation pad, a calm beacon as Ezra's emotions swirled in worry and apprehension, as did Hera's. He should be dead – he should be _dead_ for injuries like that, and Ezra realized just how close they had come. He and Hera exchanged a look, both understanding just what this experience had cost him. Kanan was simply holding on. It was the new Jedi, Ahsoka, that prompted Kanan to speak again. "What was done to you?" she asked simply.

Kanan, his face scattered, then refocused again before taking a deep, meditative breath and straightening up, hand touching his side in an unconscious confession of pain.

"Tarkin made sure they started with truth serums, don't know what kinds or how much. Lots of different drugs. A probe droid." His words were slow, just a hint of slur. "The Inquisitor had told him that Jedi are trained against such tactics, but Tarkin didn't believe that I'm a Jedi," Kanan said softly, reaching for his boots. Hera stopped him from reaching down, doing it herself. Her face was etched in worry, and Ezra privately agreed. "The Inquisitor suggested pain. Used the Force to deliver."

"Wait, _what_?" Ezra gasped. "The Force can make people hurt?"

"The Dark Side," Kanan said, looking directly to Ezra. "It's why Jedi go through so much training. So that we don't become susceptible to _that_."

"Don't get sidetracked," Ahsoka said softly. "You are releasing to the Force. You need to. Keep going."

"He's not releasing anything!" Ezra hissed back, correcting the other Jedi. "He's got this iron grip on the Force, it—"

"It's the only thing keeping me conscious," Kanan interrupted him. "And I am releasing – not the Force, but my emotions. The more I talk about what happened, the more I face and let go, the less control it has over me. A Jedi knows dark emotions lead to... dark things. They're dealt with as quickly as possible."

A couple of dots connected in Ezra's mind. "Is that why you push me so much to talk about things?"

"... Yes."

Ezra quieted.

His boots were off and for a moment Kanan just... drifted; he leaned to the side again, into Hera, and she once more guided him to a more upright position before turning to the medkit and pulling out patches and bandages, beginning the task of binding the worst of the wounds. One touch brought an intense look of pain, and Kanan hissed. Everyone froze, but the pain brought him focus, and Kanan took a deep breath. "The Inquisitor used the Force for pain. But that was nothing compared to what _else_ he was doing."

"Speak of it," Ahsoka said softly.

"... Visions. Everyone dead, unspeakable things done to them." Kanan winced and sank further into his slouch. Hera hugged him, leaning him into her warm embrace. "But the worst part was _who_ had done it."

_Ezra! No! Not_ him _!_

The feeling spiraled out into the Force and Ezra suddenly felt a little weak in the knees. Ahsoka reached out and steadied him, guiding him to sit beside her.

"The vision of Ezra having turned to the Dark Side. Having hunted us all down."

The young Padawan's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. "I would _never_ \- I _couldn't_ \- You all are..."

"Exactly," Kanan looked up with a tired, wan smile. He made eye contact and for a moment the strength was there again, the _presence_. "You stumble, Ezra. You trip. But you always get right back up again. That's how I knew it was an illusion; I threw it back in the Inquisitor's face."

Hera gave a wry chuckle. "I doubt he liked that."

"Not a bit," Kanan slouched further into Hera's embrace; the slur in his words was getting more pronounced. "It was electrocution after that."

Hera blinked before spinning around and quickly picking up one of the items that Kanan had pulled out, inspecting him. Ezra watched as she pulled out the syringe and injected him. "Etridonic acid," she said. "How did you know bone calcification would be a problem?"

"... Old Sith legends," Kanan said tiredly.

"One we can discuss at another time," Ahsoka said. "Please, you need to release more if you are to enter into a healing rest."

"... Don't have the strength for a trance..."

"Don't worry about that, Ezra and I can handle it. You need to keep releasing."

Kanan gave a fuzzy nod. His eyes were unfocused again, and it took a long time for him to start talking again. "Electrocution lasted in bursts for a long time. No food. No water. Not even time to sleep. All I had to keep going was the Force. Knowing all of you had escaped. Knowing that they couldn't find you. If they had found you... The Inquisitor kept his 'inquiries' going. Asking about all of you, where to find you, what other rebels there were."

Ezra thought he felt something, and turned to see Ahsoka frowning. "You're avoiding it," she said gently. "What else did the Inquisitor do?"

Kanan closed his eyes, his weight was almost entirely supported by Hera now, who was going through what Kanan had pulled out and doing more to treat him.

"... Questions can be ignored," he said, words soft and hard to make out, "Pain can be managed. But the Force all around me was Darkness. And Darkness always brings out the worst of us."

Ahsoka nodded and Ezra shrank, not entirely sure what more the Inquisitor could have done.

"All that Darkness made me see things. Not the visions the Inquisitor forced on me, but my fears, my self-doubt... Watching the Jedi fall, running and hiding, the person I became so that no one would notice me... My forsaking who and what I was just to hide. Just to blend in... I watched all my worst memories as if I was once more there, living them all over again."

Ezra balked. The Kanan he had met was cautious of his Jedi heritage, never wanting to advertise it, but he always called on it if it was needed. The lightsaber was always in pieces, easy to hide, but ready at a moment's notice. Kanan was always forthright with Ezra, explaining his abbreviated education, where his knowledge ended and how they could move on from there. The way Kanan spoke... What was he like between the Jedi Purge and when he and Ezra had found each other? What... what happened? How many regrets did his master hold?

Hera ran a hand through his hair, gentle smile on her face. "I don't know, love," she said softly. "You were still a decent guy when I met you."

"... I was a drunk."

"No," Hera said firmly, but gently. "You drank to escape pain. Anyone could see that. But when it really mattered, when no one was looking, you were still the Jedi you always were."

Kanan was practically sideways he was leaning so far over into Hera, and his face was in shadow, so it was hard to tell, but Ezra was certain he saw the Jedi's eyes water. He blinked slowly, pursing his lips, before the tiniest of smiles crossed his lips. Hera gently nudged him upright again. It didn't last long.

"The Inquisitor saw something of those memories, didn't he?" Ahsoka asked sadly.

Kanan's nod could barely be seen. " _Dun Moch_... He pulled at my memory of my master's death. Made me relive it. Made me _admit_ my cowardice." Pain was on his face now, the raw kind of a wound that never healed right. Ezra had seen that look on his own face, when he was thinking about his parents. It was the look of an old hurt, one that was, at best, lived with. "We were all sitting at camp when the order came in... She told me to run... and I did. I left her... Her, the Jedi, when they needed me and everyone else, most."

Exhaustion won out, emotional and physical, he couldn't hold himself up anymore. He started to slouch even further, and Hera shifted, helping him lay down on his bunk. She kept running her hand through his hair. "You never did tell us how you survived," she said softly.

"And the Inquisitor used that against you as well," Ahsoka let out a sad, heavy sigh. Her own eyes were pained, memories filling her face. "It was an ordeal for all of us, Kanan. We all felt guilty."

Survivor's guilt was something Ezra knew very well, knew from his parents fates and his life on the streets wondering why he had lived. But Kanan... "Well I'm _glad_ you ran!" Ezra shouted, standing up. "I'm _glad_ you survived! Maybe it was cowardice at the time, maybe it was whatever that Inquisitor said it was, but that isn't _all_ that you are! If you hadn't run, if you _hadn't_ survived, then I'd still be that lothrat on the streets, only caring about myself. I'd never know I was Force-sensitive. I'd be-"

But the words were clogging in his throat, the feeling overwhelming him. There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't sort it out enough to even get out the feeling, let alone the words.

Kanan's eyes were almost closed, but he put in the effort to turn his head and catch Ezra's gaze. He smiled again, that soft, small smile. "I'm glad I survived too," Kanan said. "I'm glad to have found you, Ezra." His eyes shifted. "And you, Hera. I may not like how I survived, but I _am_ glad I survived."

Something rippled across Ezra, and somehow, everything felt... lighter.

Ahsoka nodded. "You have released all you can. Let go of your hold on the Force."

"... can't manage a healing trance," Kanan muttered, looking more and more exhausted.

"No, but your Padawan and I can handle that. Rest, Kanan Jarrus."

And Ezra thought he felt the softest touch of a suggestion.

"Rest easy, love," Hera said softly, holding his hand. "We've got you."

Kanan's eyes at last drifted closed, face finally looking at peace.

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> Not much to say here, the season 2 finale hadn't come out yet and shattered our feels; but even in light of that this still works. It's more of a character study than an actual fic, a blurb that explores Kanan and Ezra a little before we dug our feet into bigger and better-written fics.


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